Day 2 - The Jersey

Ironically, today's stupid moment happened outside of a coffee shop.  Of course, I spend a lot of time inside and around coffee shops, so statistically speaking, stupidity inside and around coffee shops had to get a hit eventually.

Standing outside of the coffee shop was a woman smoking a cigarette with a child that looked to be about 18 months old (the kid wasn’t smoking his own cigarette, just enjoying the smoke from hers).  I watched for a few minutes as he continually tried to get out of his stroller, but kept knocking it over instead.  At first I thought he might have some sort of mental challenge that he was contending with, but then the mother spoke and I realized he was probably developmentally right on target.

“This is the next Ohio State quarterback right here,” she informed me as she blew smoke in his face.  I was actually at a loss as to what to say.  Should I break it to her that the next Ohio State quarterback is already in college and that this kid would hardly be a contender against an 18-year-old?  It occurred to me that she didn’t really mean ‘next’, so much as ‘future’, so I let it slide.  Should I tell her that in the future his inevitable asthma may be a disqualifier?  Or that I’m pretty sure dexterity is a requirement for football players, and that her kid was once again in danger of being overcome by a stroller?

As I debated with myself on whether or not sarcasm would be completely lost on this woman, she spoke again.  “He has a jersey and everything.”  Is there some sort of try-out level that I am unaware of in which OSU players are required to provide their own jerseys?  Wouldn’t that be a bitch?  “His stats were great, he had the grades, but the damn kid never thought to buy a jersey.”  I thought about the jersey in my own closet and wondered what my chances were for the spring.  It was not a career option my Guidance Councilor had ever brought up for me.

I decided that sarcasm would be confusing for her, but I didn’t know how to respond any other way, so I said, “Having a jersey is the first step.”  She agreed and went on to tell me that it had a one on it or something.  I had to walk away.  If she can’t even identify the number one with conviction yet, I’d say the kid’s chances of getting into Ohio State are small.  But it got me thinking.  Why is everyone always trying to figure out the careers of children? 

My son is 14 weeks old, and every time he kicks his legs he’s a soccer player, and when he swings his fists he’s a boxer.  There are some careers that I will probably steer him clear of, but I’m not really making any permanent employment decisions at this time.  Paula Poundstone said that when adults ask children what they want to be when they grow up it’s because the adult is looking for ideas.  I get that.  But what are we doing when we try to assign a career to a child?  Probably the same thing, I guess.  Maybe I should go back to the coffee shop and give that woman my jersey.